Faith
by The Noble French Fry
Summary: Mal and Inara never were good at seeing what was right in front of them. A past friend steps in to help. [PostSerenity oneshot, so there are spoilers]


**Title: **Faith  
**Rating:** G  
**Story Prompts:** angst, faith  
**Story FOR:** **aricadavidson** as part of the 2006 Mal/Inara Ficathon  
**Categories:** ANGST  
**Timeline:** POST-Serenity (SPOILERS!)  
**Length:** just over 7,000  
**Description:** Mal and Inara never were able to see what was right in front of them. An old friend helps them to see.  
**Note:** This was written as part of the Mal/Inara ficathon at the LJ community truthsomefic... I hope you all enjoy, and please review.

* * *

_**Sincerest thanks to**_: atmospheric for the beta. Aricadavidson for the challenge! To my sister Lexi for the plot help. And of course to the one and only God from whom all blessings and ideas flow.

**

* * *

**

**Faith**

**T**he staunch canvas of space is unyieldingly silent and still, a black abyss that stretches itself out ceaselessly to the edges of the universe. Its open vastness is shrouded in mystery and veiled in wonder, a constantly unsolvable enigma to humankind. Some see the Black's yawning arms as a cold, cruel and frightening monster that can swallow them up in its sheer size alone. Others see it as an open field in which they can remain anonymous and hidden. By a blessedly open-minded few, it is considered truly welcoming, peaceful and serene.

The section of space occupied by the spaceship _Serenity_ was ironically absolutely anything in the galaxy but serene.

Strife and anger marked the _Firefly_-class transport in the form of an already heated and rapidly escalating argument between its captain and Companion. Their irate voices carried up and down the halls, echoing throughout the ship for all of the other passengers—who were all hiding from the wrath of both arguers—to hear.

It'd been going on like this for at least the past two hours following dinner: snappy retorts, absolutely furious accusations and completely enraged exclamations chasing each other quickly, growing even rapider though neither opponent gained any bit of ground in this futile squabble. The only reason it had even lasted this long was the sheer stubbornness and pigheaded pride of both of them—the same motive that assured no end was thus far in sight.

"Why did you even ask me that, Mal!" Inara's shrill, normally delicate and measured voice shouted in the most uncontrolled manner anyone had ever heard from the professional Companion. Her hands balled into angry fists at her sides as she desperately tried to restrain herself from slapping the Captain square across his cheek.

"It was just a question!" Mal yelled in reply, emphasizing with a wide gesture of his broad hand.

The tone of Inara's voice began to change from angry and irritated to bordering on murderous. "One you knew full well my answer to and stance on, you _ben, po xiang de goushi_!"

"Oh, so now I'm _xiang de goushi_ for asking questions?" Mal's tone escalated to match Inara's. "'Nara, the whole point of askin' a question is to get an answer! If I woulda known what you was gonna say, I wouldn'ta asked!"

"But you did!" Inara accused, releasing one of her balled fists enough to jab an indicting finger at Mal. "You knew how I'd answer and you knew how I'd react!" The painted nail of her pointing finger shook mere centimeters from Mal's face before twisting itself back into its place in her fist. "Why do you have to go and purposely ruin any semblance of peace on this ship?" Both of her fists uncurled as she gestured about. "Anytime we don't get into an argument on our own, you just have to start something!"

"Weren't me that started this argument," Mal countered untruthfully. "If it weren't for you gettin' all _ao nao_ for nothin', we wouldn't be havin' this argument!"

"I don't get '_ao nao_ for nothing,' Mal! And you know that perfectly well, don't act like you don't! You know that you _deliberately _provoked me into this argument!"

"I did _not_!"

Realizing abruptly as she stared at the Captain's angry face that this was getting her absolutely, positively nowhere very fast, Inara turned on her heel and stormed off. She'd no longer participate in this futile fight. Her abnormally heavy footfalls echoed just as stridently through the halls of _Serenity_ as her loud voice had moments earlier, and the metallic resonance of the heavy _thuds_ both preceded and followed her towards her shuttle. Grace and poise were completely forgotten in her livid haste, and normally measured, gentle steps were wholly forsaken for the quick, stomping strides.

After a moment's hesitation, Mal ran to catch up and then follow her, continuing to shout his position in this quarrel and choosing not to accept his opponent's retreat.

"See? You're so _ou_ that you just turn and _bai tui_!"

Eyes blazing with a wild fire, Inara stopped so quickly that Mal almost ran smack into her. She glared at him with the most murderous look on her face that he'd ever seen, especially considering how that very face was usually carefully poised as per her years of Companion training. Her voice was equally as treacherous as she growled, "I'm not retreating, Mal, and I'm certainly not admitting defeat!" Turning and stomping away twice as quickly, she continued biting out words though she wasn't facing him. "I'm just being the bigger person and walking away from this _ben_ argument! I'm not going to stand here and yell at a _kui sagwa _anymore!"

"_Kui sagwa_!" he bellowed in retaliation. "You're the—"

He didn't even get to finish the nasty reply before Inara slammed her shuttle's door right in his face. As he was still moving forward, Mal ran right into it, bumping his nose painfully against the cold, unrelenting metal.

The heavy lock on that door clicked into position loudly, hurting Mal's ears.

Standing stiffly on the other side with her rigidly-postured back against the door, Inara could hear the long, bilingual string of colorful curses that Mal spat under his breath, muffled as they were. After a moment, the cussing died off, and she could hear him just standing there, breathing heavily as he most likely tried fruitlessly to come up with a smart retort to leave behind. Finding none after what seemed like an eternity, he just slammed both fists hard against the door and stormed off, footfalls echoing on behind him.

When Inara could no longer hear the resonation of his heavy steps, she let herself slump against the door. Her knees felt weak and she slowly slid down the length of the door to the floor. Pulling her knees to her chest, her head slowly drooped to rest on top of them as the beginning of potentially painful and utterly unstoppable sobs found their way to her throat.

-

_Will our battles never cease?_

_Are we doomed forever to quarrel?_

_It tears apart my heart every time._

_You, and your lack of faith in me._

_Why must we go on this way?_

_- _

Why did things have to be this way?

Fights with Inara always left Mal feeling… so many things all at once: a big jumble of feelings that were difficult to separate and frustrating to him. Half of the emotions that tumbled around in that untidy heap were unidentifiable, and the other half were things he wouldn't ever to. But that didn't make the feelings any less present.

It left him feeling hot, as one would easily expect to feel after such a long, nasty spat such as this one. Every nerve seemed to course with angry energy that didn't fade quickly and left him feeling charged. The feeling was so strong he almost imagined he could feel the warm tingles of its presence in his fingers and toes as he stomped down _Serenity_'s main corridor.

Echoes of his noisy steps were following him, but he didn't care. He wasn't even really paying attention to where he went or how he got there, just what was tumbling around inside of his mind and heart.

The next prominent feeling that asserted itself flowing through Mal was an odd sense of cool calm that strongly contradicted the feeling of heat. This act of back and forth fighting was a rhythm that he and Inara repeated continuously, no matter the circumstances. The long past soft moments they might've shared during and immediately after the whole Miranda incident hadn't changed that. In fact, things had been just as bad if not worse since Inara decided to stay on _Serenity_ again. And that in turn made Mal feel… normal. It rewound time to simpler periods… to back before Miranda and that whole fiasco somehow, and gave him the impression that some things always flowed along and constantly continued, no matter what might have happened.

He and Inara were doomed and destined to fight: it was the will of fate.

And the last easily identifiable feeling was the one that worried Mal the most.

After these fights, be they lengthy or diminutive, he was left feeling broken inside and troubled. Every time he got into an argument with Inara, Mal seemed to find himself hurting and shattered. He was pained by her anguish, even more so by the fact that he had so willingly caused it. The wounds she inflicted on him and the words she spat in her fury hurt him worlds less than the ones he dealt back in return.

And that was very, very worrisome.

_Why_ did it hurt him so much just to emotionally harm Inara? She didn't even appear to care, and simply kept arguing no matter what he said. Snappy retorts were traded back and forth, regardless of circumstances, and both of them never showed the other how much it hurt. So why if Inara didn't look or act injured, did Mal feel so guilty and so wrong for doing this to her?

That was it: he shouldn't. He couldn't rightly see any reason he should, either.

No, actually he did. There was one reason he might be feeling like this, one cause for his crazy emotions. And that was that: the one and only explanation there was. But that "one possibility" was something that Mal Reynolds was definitely not willing to explore.

Inara wasn't anything special to him. Just a… friend and passenger on his boat. He—for the most part—treated her like any other person on _Serenity_. So he argued with her constantly for unseen or miniscule reasons and apparently felt things that he shouldn't be feeling.

That was all somewhat easily ignorable, and Mal was a willful enough man to disregard those things until the day he died.

Looking up from where he'd been staring at the floor of _Serenity_ as he absently stomped along the various corridors lost in thought and trying his hardest to cool down, Mal saw that he was back at the door to Inara's shuttle.

And so all of his careful reasoning fell into a million tiny pieces yet again, exposing itself to be so utterly false.

His feet had subconsciously brought him back here, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt why. But he wasn't going to let this happen.

Turning on his heel, he left the door of Inara's shuttle behind and started in the direction of his bunk. It was getting late, and rest was sounding better and better by the minute.

It was now amply obvious to Mal that it wasn't just arguments and fights with Inara that tore him up and left him feeling odd and all mucked up.

It was Inara's presence.

She herself manipulated his feelings, whether purposely or not, he couldn't say. But considering her great "training," he was willing to bet it was deliberate. She made things all crazy and rearranged everything inside of him just by being around him. Just by being in the room, she made him different. And that had to be intentional.

Most of the time, it made him wish like crazy that she was elsewhere.

But he wasn't sure if he could endure her leaving again.

He liked to think he'd done better when Inara was at the Companion Training House, far from _Serenity_ and far from him. The crew would argue that point, and would undoubtedly mention the fact that the Captain had been running around with a shorter temper and far less patience for everybody and everything in Inara's lengthy absence.

Still, he liked to think it was that way, and by sheer repetition, he'd already pretty much convinced himself that was the way things were, and always would be. He'd unquestionably been in a clearer state of mind without her around to confuse him and his feelings, and that definitely counted for something.

Grumbling to himself, Mal descended the ladder into his bunk.

_- _

_Do you always have to disagree with me?_

_Is it not enough that your mere presence eats away my soul?_

_Must you also tear me down with your words?_

_And my words too?_

_You, oh, you who never believes me, how you wound me…_

_- _

Breakfast that morning was a none too pleasant affair for everyone. Both the captain and Companion were still uncharacteristically angry at each other and their strife caused uneasiness elsewhere around the table. The usually liveliness and cheer that surrounded the family-like crew during the morning meal was traded for anxious silence and frigid looks that Mal and Inara traded.

The captain's own aura of anger seemed to almost visibly flow from him and strike fear into his crew. He sat in his usual place at the head of the table, with Inara all the way down at the other end, directly facing him. The old, very scarred wooden table between them and the people sitting on either side of it somehow seemed to amplify the angry atmospheres surrounding them, causing those people to fidget and maintain the uncomfortable silence.

Simon seemed most unsettled, almost as if he were afraid that if this erupted any further, he might find himself using his medical training. It didn't seem too out of place that across the table from her brother, River was silent. She was probably hearing the angry thoughts of both arguing parties in her head, and was fighting to make heads or tails of them. And for once, Jayne was even keeping his big mouth shut. Kaylee was all sorts of troubled and sad about the situation, and her eyes constantly flicked from one end of the table to the other as if wishing the two to reconcile.

Finally working up the courage, she spoke up. "You have any jobs planned 'sides this one on Bilxin, Cap'n?"

"Figure we might head out to Callscus," Mal replied after a moment. No one noticed, but at those words Inara stopped eating and froze. "Then Espanita." Mal nodded in River's direction. "Can you do that, little Albatross?"

"Captain asks futile questions," the young pilot—who had been getting steadily better since Miranda but still tended to speak in riddles—muttered in return. "She's a fast learner; can do anything. He doesn't ask the right questions. Always wrong ones."

"Well, then there's your answer, little Kaylee," Mal said, choosing to ignore the part about him and questions. "Bilxin, Callscus, Espanita. We'll just take 'em as they come after that."

No one spoke up after the captain finished talking, and Inara herself just blinked speechlessly before she erupted, "Bilxin? Callscus? Espanita?" Her fork clattered loudly onto her plate before her continuing voice rose with anger. "Mal, you know I can't find any decent work on any of those backwater, _goushi xing-xings_!"

"Well then, you'll just have to be puttin' your whorin' on hold for a bit while me and my crew put food on this here table." His tone was cold and firm, and the last part was punctuated by a fist striking the wooden table.

"Mal, I've put my work on hold for the past three months while you run from the Alliance like a scared puppy! We agreed last week that it was about time you visited some at least halfway civilized planets! Three months, Mal, I've paid you my rent out of savings so we could keep under the radar. I need to get back to work!"

"Cap'n," Kaylee ventured, "'Nara does have a point."

Angry blue eyes turned to the young mechanic. "This ain't your fight, _mei-mei_. Stay outta it." With that, he rose to his feet and continued to Inara, "Three months 'way from your whorin' and already you're just itchin' to go back to it. It's just killin' ya, ain't it?"

"Mal, it's what I do," Inara argued. "I'm a Companion, and _it's who I am_!"

"'Nara…" Kaylee tried once more to break into the argument.

"Please stay out of this, _mei-mei_," the Companion replied off-handedly.

"If'n it's 'who you are,' how was you able to go without it for three months?" Mal demanded. "Tell me that."

As her fists curled again as they had last night, Inara slowly rose from her chair to match Mal's stance across the table. "Mal—" she started.

"The breakfast table is not the place for fights," Simon's unexpected voice spoke up, interrupting Inara's protest. When the stares of both arguers turned towards him, to his credit and their surprise, he didn't squirm, but added, "Please. Some of us were trying to eat."

Lips pressing tightly together, Inara nodded shortly. "You're right." The look on her face clearly said, "I'm better than this," before she actually said the words. With that, she turned on her heel and marched off in the direction of her shuttle. As he had the night before, Mal gave chase.

Their irate voices and the echoes thereof could be heard even after they disappeared out of Serenity's small dining room.

"Crazy," Jayne muttered around a mouthful of food. "Both of 'em."

"Love'll do that to folk," Kaylee murmured in reply, absently poking at her food as she remembered the way both the Captain and Inara had pushed her out of the argument. "'specially if they go on denyin' it like they do. 'Nara an' Cap'n jus' don't get it."

River looked up with a spark in her eyes and said, "Words cover feelings. Arguments suppress emotions. Makes all things 'easier' for them. But easier is harder. Kills them as a sharp blade."

Sighing, Kaylee forked a bite of her food. "Y'right, River, honey. But that's jus' they way they is."

_- _

_No one can stop us from being as we are,_

_They try, oh, do they try, but they cannot change us._

_Fate has spoken, and so we are._

_Eternally we will harm each other,_

_Forever gnawing at each other's souls,_

_In a ghostly shadow of love._

_-_

Fingers clutched at the satin sheets and grabbed a fistful longingly, then releasing it as her nail traced the small pattern on the soft cloth. Those same sheets clung to her and rustled against Inara's skin as she shifted position from her side onto her back. Her head turned to stare at the place where her finger was still absently—and longingly—outlining the pattern.

All of a sudden as if snapped from some reverie, she realized the odd motion.

Scowling lightly at the silly behavior, she forced her hand to stop right in its path, and she instead drew the arm up underneath her pillow. The weight of her head firmly pinned it down and kept it from roaming.

It'd been _over_ three months since a client had lain there beside Inara. Though no one on _Serenity_ knew consciously, she hadn't taken a client since she'd run into Mal coming out of Nandi's bedchamber that morning months ago in the Heart of Gold. She'd been too broken by what she somehow viewed as Mal's betrayal to take on clients. Luckily enough for her, Mal had only visited small backwater planets between the time she'd announced her intention to leave and the day she actually left. And as soon as she left _Serenity_ for the Companion Training House, she'd become an official educator Companion, and had thus gone off of active duty.

Surprisingly, Inara hadn't missed the clients.

She'd been perfectly content spending the day teaching young, eager students the ways of the Companion Guild and her nights alone, without the worry of waking someone else up.

Loneliness had never found her at the Training House, shockingly. One would expect that a woman so used to years as a professional Companion would feel so lost and out of place when she halted and picked up the life of a teacher instead.

She didn't.

It was only now that she was back on _Serenity_ that she began to feel the constantly nagging itch of solitude. These four months had brought her no end of silently endured grief, though she knew she was now back at _home_—the home she had sorely missed while "permanently" planetside.

It was—Inara mused despondently—one messy puzzle of a predicament.

_Serenity_ felt like home, and really Inara didn't hesitate long at all to call it such. And it wasn't just the one and a half years she spent renting out the shuttle. The ship housed her _family_, the crew, and her heart went with it wherever it flew or crashed. She felt like it was as much a part of her as her very breath. But when trapped inside its bulkheads, she became restless and began feeling oh so very alone. She had her "family," and that helped more than a little to ease the vacuum in her heart, but it certainly didn't cure it.

On the other hand, she didn't seem to have such a gaping hole inside of her heart when she was training the young novices on that fair, beautiful Core planet. Sure, there was still some miniscule, ignorable itch inside of her then, but it was definitely more manageable than the larger one sucking away within her while she was onboard _Serenity_. But she also felt out of place at times while at the Training House. Her experiences with the rougher side of the galaxy left her feeling outside of the polished and refined folk of the Core. She wore a mask at those times that she knew made her look as though that time on _Serenity_ had never changed her, and that she was still the same, exceptional, high-cultured Companion she always had been. But when it all came down to it, Inara knew it was just that: a mask.

On _Serenity_, she didn't have to wear that mask.

The people that surrounded her there didn't care how sophisticated she was. They themselves were very laid back and definitely not cultured.

But they were her family, and when separated from them, Inara sorely missed them.

So either way she went, she was tearing out her own heart.

With a barely controlled groan, Inara turned over so that she no longer faced the empty half of her bed, but the wall. The middle of the night was not the time for figuring out why it was that every decision concerning _Serenity_ wound up with her hurting.

It took quite a few minutes that seemed each one like its own everlasting eternity, but sleep finally came. And when it did, Inara wished like crazy she could take that back.

She dreamed of the day she told Mal she was leaving, and of the day she left _Serenity_ behind her.

------

_With its passengers very recently back from the lengthy, sorrow-filled funeral for Nandi, Serenity was once more soaring out of the atmosphere of a planet and reclaiming its rightful place among the stars of the expansive black. The words spoken there at the interment had somehow touched every single one of their hearts, none more so than Mal and Inara's._

_Somehow, they'd run into each other outside of Inara's shuttle on the catwalk and had begun an inevitable conversation. His eyes kept turning to her, and she kept looking away, unable to meet his gaze after all that had happened yesterday and today._

_His voice was sharp as he said, "Inara, I ain't lookin' for anythin' from you. I'm just feelin' kinda truthsome right now." Even without her training, she would've been able to detect the reluctant determination in his voice. "Life's too damn short for ifs and maybes."_

_Knowing that she had to stop this before it went any further, Inara began speaking before Mal could continue. "I learned something from Nandi," she said, nodding slightly. "Not just from what happened, but from her. The family she made, the strength of her love for them. That's what kept them together." She hoped she was being just cryptic enough that Mal wouldn't understand she wasn't talking about Nandi at all, but would draw at least a miniscule line between himself and the Nandi she was talking about. "That's what kept them together." _That's what keeps you together, _she added silently to herself. "When you live with that kind of strength, you get tied to it, you can't break away. And you never want to."_

_Inside of her, Inara knew that by verbally admitting that—and in her heart confessing that she was tied to Mal in that way, and couldn't break away, and didn't want to break away—was making it so very much harder to do what she knew she had to._

_Looking up, she found it easy now to meet his eyes, and she almost lost herself in their crystal blue depths. Subconsciously she realized they were drifting dangerously close together, but she went on speaking without missing a single beat._

"_There's something that I…" She paused and gulped before forcing herself to go onward. "That I should've done a long while ago," she continued. "And I'm sorry for the both of us that it took me this long."_

_She could see the almost hopeful spark in Mal's eyes at those words, hoping that what she had to say was what they both wanted to hear. His mouth even opened to say something himself. Inara knew the words on his lips were the one thing that would completely ruin them both, but the desperate desire of both of their hearts._

_And so with one last shove of inner strength, she attained the courage to keep going, and keep both of them mostly intact._

"_I'm leaving."_

_The words came out of her mouth fairly easy. Just two simple words._

_But the impact of them on her heart and mind was catastrophic. Her heart felt like it was already ripping in two and her mind was turning just thinking about the implications of her feelings._

_Mal didn't say anything, but instead stood there silently, surprised, hurt, and angry, though none of it was amply obvious. His mouth was set firmly against words._

_Not that there was anything he could say._

_For a moment, Inara just stood there, staring into his eyes and silently begging his forgiveness for the grief she knew she was inflicting on them both. She knew what she did was harmful, but it was necessary, and as a Companion, Inara had always placed a high value on doing what was essential before what was personally preferred._

_It was the way of things._

_After that lingering moment, she could no longer stand the silence and brushed past him—just close enough that their shoulders grazed each other lightly—and passed into her shuttle. He still stood there long after she'd shut the door, frozen in his boots. She knew without seeing that he was still there too._

_Realizing that only helped to further rip open Inara's heart, and that only helped the intensity of the salty tears that followed._

------

_Kaylee's sobs were the one sound from behind her that stood out among the others. River's shuffling feet, Jayne's muttering, Shepherd Book's repetitive sighs and Simon's pointless attempts to calm the bawling mechanic were all much less distinguishable. The blubbering attempts at words around obvious tears were loud enough for Inara to clearly hear even twenty feet away, and it was almost—almost—bringing Inara herself to tears._

_And Mal's flat stare in front of her was no less heart-wrenching._

_He was acting cold and unaffected, but she could read the strain in his stance. He was_ trying_ to seem aloof and impassive about her departure, but in reality was probably very hurt by it._

_But as telling him before that she was leaving, this was something Inara had to do._

"_Well," she began, fingering the latch of her suitcase, "here we are."_

"_Yep," Mal responded curtly, looking off elsewhere as though he wanted to be anywhere but here._

_Inara's heart suddenly felt very cold and that sense of it being torn was amply obvious. Automatically, her well-crafted mask sprung into place and her face became impassive._

"_I'll try to stay in touch as much as possible," she said evenly. "Good-bye, Mal."_

_Finally, his eyes turned down to her in a flat stare as he just as impassively said, "'Bye, 'Nara."_

_Turning with a forced smile, Inara waved one last time at _Serenity_'s other passengers. "Farewell, everyone. I'll keep in touch." With that, she stepped past Mal and left her family behind._

------

Inara woke with a light gasp, once again feeling that emptiness inside of her, not just in remembrance. The angst that she felt threatened to tear her apart as it had that one morning in the Heart of Gold when she had felt so betrayed and so very, very alone.

It startled her to brush at her chilled cheeks and find lots of moisture there.

But realizing that she was already crying, the rest of her defenses and control crumpled and her vision was distorted by pooling tears. It wasn't long before sobs—very similar to those she'd experienced in the Heart of Gold and had repeatedly tried to stop on lonely nights at the Companion Training House—wracked her body.

It was times like these that she seriously considered leaving_ Serenity_ again.

_- _

_Why should I stand and endure your disbelief,_

_When away I can fly?_

_But why should I flee yet again_

_When it is not I at fault, but you?_

_Why should the tears cried all be mine?_

_When I have done anything?_

_Why do I flee? Why do I cry?_

_I should not, yet for you, I do._

_- _

Today had been another argument-filled day with Inara, and again Mal was feeling sapped of energy. Yet his weariness didn't allow for rest. It was late—probably some while past midnight—and while the rest of _Serenity_ slept, he could not.

Nights like these—when sleep was hesitant to come or avoiding him altogether—Mal found solace in his ship's cockpit. His bunk seemed too enclosed and too forbidding, so instead he sat in the pilot's chair and watched the stars.

He never touched any of the controls—River would have them on autopilot at this time of the night. Just sat there, often brooding.

After all, this chair had been Wash's for so long, and it was odd to think it wasn't anymore. Left _Serenity_ feeling partially empty… incomplete.

Mal had to bask in that sense of emptiness. That particular feeling hadn't seemed to float around his boat since Inara and Shepherd Book's departures what felt like eternities ago.

"What's got you so down, son?" a familiarly deep voice asked from behind him.

Only partially startled, Mal turned to see yet another missing part of _Serenity_. Standing erect as ever, the dark-skinned man stared at the captain with friendly brown eyes and a genuinely concerned expression. Seeing the dead man there, Mal didn't even flinch. It wasn't the first time the deceased Shepherd had appeared during one of Mal's late-night broodings. Actually, if his count was correct, this was the ninth time.

He hadn't decided yet if what he was seeing and had seen on past occasions was just a manifestation of his imagination—perhaps subconscious—a dream, or if by some odd, unbelievable chance, he was actually seeing the spirit or ghost of Shepherd Derrial Book. He preferred to believe it was one of the former, and he'd also rather believe it was just a recurring dream instead of some sort of hallucination.

That made him sound closer to sanity.

"Nothin'," he answered the question.

A small smile tugged at the old man's lips. "Oh, come on, Mal." Slowly as he spoke, Book walked from his position in the doorway over to the co-pilot's chair and sat himself down in it. His eyes never left Mal, inspecting him with paternal concern. "I can see it. Something's bothering you."

Unwilling to admit Inara was the reason he couldn't sleep, Mal simply shook his head and averted his gaze.

The preacher gave a short laugh. "It's Inara, isn't it?"

"_No_," was Mal's reflexive reply. The covering lie sprang quickly from his lips, as it had on so many previous occasions.

"Lying to a Shepherd is pointless, Mal," Book informed him. "I can tell when you're untruthful."

Instead of admitting to his falsehood, Mal skillfully skirted the issue as he shifted in the chair so he could better see the Shepherd. "What makes you think it's 'Nara that bothers me?"

Book's reply was quick, and he certainly didn't hesitate to say, "Son, it's _always_ Inara that bothers you."

Mal's eyes instantly flashed hotly in the preacher's direction. He barely caught himself before another denial left his lips. Instead, he decided that seeing as how either the Shepherd was not here or simply a spirit, admitting things would do no harm.

"She's jus' so small…" he murmured. Chuckling lightly to himself, Mal stared down at the floor as an analogy formed in his mind. "Weren't never 'spectin' her to be so dangerous." He paused, shaking his slowly head when he continued. "Her—of all people—_her_ jus' like a bullet. S'posed to be so refined and shiny, but she's dangerous and messy jus' the same. Goes in, messes ev'rythin' up and makes all sorts of pains. Even after ya pull it out, there's still a scar, an still hurts to think 'bout it."

For a moment, both men were silent.

Finally, the Shepherd's deep voice shattered the silence. "Did you ever stop to think that you do the same thing to her? Did you ever stop to think that this pain and loneliness runs both ways?"

It took Mal a moment to absorb those words.

Really, he'd always known Inara seemed to tear him to shreds, but he'd never assumed until now that the opposite was also true. He knew there'd been deep pain in his heart when Inara left _Serenity_, but did it hurt her every time he left for a job?

_- _

_How is it one so fragile and so delicate is so lethal?_

_One simple act from you is all it requires,_

_And I fall to pieces._

_Me, so strong and impenetrable, failing because of you._

_What is it about you that tears at me so?_

_I know how I hurt when you ran…_

_Do you hurt when I do?_

_- _

The makeup brush in Inara's hand halted as her hand faltered. She was still tired as the fading but not yet past night had provided little rest, and what it granted had been fitful. However, she knew it wasn't the fatigue that made her hands quiver. Nor was it the fact that it was currently an ungodly hour of the morning that most still considered part of night.

She knew her thoughts—ones of a certain "petty thief"—caused her to keep stopping.

Particularly what it was about Mal that did this to her.

The answer had come long ago in the form of a simple, four-letter word always denied to Companions. However easily it had come to mind, Inara was still trying to avoid the L word. After all, any forbidden feelings she was harboring for the captain couldn't be the only reason he tore her up.

As she set down the makeup brush and began pulling a comb through her raven curls, an answer found Inara.

Trust. Faith. Belief.

Mal had none of those for her.

He believed in his crew, and since Miranda he believed in what he did, but when had he ever had faith in her?

The thought made Inara falter again.

_- _

_All I have asked is your faith,_

_Your trust means all to my heart._

_But its desire you would not grant,_

_For your faith you would not give._

_And so I resent you for what you have done to me._

_- _

"Faith," the Shepherd said slowly, breaking another length of somewhat uneasy silence that had fallen between the two men. It was so sudden, but yet so in place at the same time…

Mal's eyes turned towards the preacher. "Wha's that, Shepherd?"

Likewise, Book's eyes, which had previously been staring out at space, turned to Mal as he firmly said, "It's what you don't have, Mal. What's driving you crazy."

The captain scoffed in reply. "Told ya before, preacher. Sermons make me sleepy." He found himself standing as if to walk away. "Gave up on that one a long time ago."

"Sit down, Mal," the preacher replied powerfully. Just the tone of his voice compelled Mal to obey. "You learned before that faith and believing doesn't always have to do with God." He sighed and almost silently muttered, "Though you could use that too," under his breath.

Mal chose to ignore that. "Then what 'xactly does it have to do with?"

"Inara."

Again, Mal rose as if to leave, though secretly he knew he wouldn't. Still, why was it the Shepherd always had to take the conversation off into those untouchable subjects? Faith and Inara were subjects the captain definitely preferred to avoid for his own reasons.

"Sit down." Again, the power in the Shepherd's tone forced Mal to comply. "This is something you need to hear."

After a light sigh, Book went on. "What you don't get about believing is that now you have faith in what you do. And you've always had faith in your crew. Inara's not part of that crew in your head. You don't believe in her, son. And that's a part of what ruins you. You want to believe in her, but you don't, and it hurts you."

"_Ren he_, Shepherd," Mal denied.

"It's true whether you admit it or not, Mal," Book countered. "It doesn't take you admitting anything to make it true."

"If that is the case, preacher, than don't that also mean she ain't got no faith in me?" Mal asked. "'Cause you 'member you said she hurts too."

Book shook his head. "Not because of lack of faith in you, Mal. She believes in you. It's lack of faith in something else that ruins her."

"Ah, let me guess, lack of faith in God?"

Again, the Shepherd shook his head. "Not quite, Mal."

_- _

_Do you believe in me? _

_Have you always?_

_If ere you did, you had not faith in us._

_Is that what has ruined us so?_

_Is it you, or is it me?_

_- _

"Well, what is it then?" Mal asked, turning from where he'd been staring at the stars to look at the Shepherd with an eyebrow raised. "What don't 'Nara have faith in?"

The preacher didn't answer right away, but took a long moment continuing to stare out of _Serenity_'s front viewport before he turned his gaze back to Mal. His voice was firm as his lips formed the one word Mal feared: "Love."

Still, he covered his rapidly beating heart by coughing and acting surprised. "Love?" he asked.

"Yes, Mal, love." Book's stare was firm and never once wavered. "'And now abide faith, hope and love, the greatest of which is love,'" he quoted.

Still attempting to feign surprise and ignorance of the Shepherd's point, Mal raised an eyebrow. "So 'cause 'Nara don't have faith in love, she's all torn up?"

"Exactly. And also her lack of ability to admit she's in love."

"Forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical, preacher. Seems 'Nara don't waste no love on me."

A faint smile crossed Book's lips. "It only looks that way. But love has many faces, and there are many signs that can be used to identify it… Even when it's trying to be hidden."

Sensing a lecture coming on, Mal quickly attempted to cut it off before it started. "Sermons make me sleepy, Shepherd, and speeches make me drowsy. Don't wanna hear a lecture 'bout love."

Book paid those words no heed and went on anyway, making Mal sigh. As his mouth opened, Mal's mind finally rebelled at the thought of being lectured, and he decided to get up and just leave. But, as the Shepherd's words reached his ears, Mal found he couldn't move from his seat.

"'Love is patient, Love is kind; it does not envy, it does not boast,'" Book quoted evenly, his stare straight and unwavering. "'It is not proud. It is not rude. It is not selfish. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.'"

With his jaw clenched tightly the way that it was, Mal couldn't say anything. But what was there he _could_ say? What could he possibly say to that?

He couldn't—and wouldn't—admit to any special feelings towards Inara.

Except to himself. That much seemed impossible to deny anymore.

"Think about it, Mal," Book said after a fateful pause. "Love never fails." He paused, his voice dripping with purpose. "Consider that."

'_Cept in me and 'Nara's case_, Mal thought. _Bound to fail. Doomed._

"You'll never know if you're going to fail or not if you never step out and try," the preacher said, as though he'd heard Mal's very thoughts. "All of the time you waste thinking about it and thinking you're doomed to fail is time that you could spend finding out you were wrong."

Mal closed his eyes and sighed deeply at the truth he heard in those words.

"And another thing: Love is long-suffering," the Shepherd said. "Love is patient. But all patience has its limits. Even love can't wait forever. Think about it."

When Mal opened his eyes, Shepherd Book was gone.

Whether or not he'd been sleeping, he didn't know, which meant he was again left to wonder if he'd really seen a ghost, or if he'd simply been dreaming. It would be one of the great mysteries that surrounded _Serenity_—and Mal.

But it didn't really matter whether the preacher had really been here or not.

That didn't change what he'd said.

That didn't alter the truth in his words.

That couldn't change what was.

"Up and about so early, Captain?" The sound of Inara's soft voice from behind him literally made Mal jump out of his seat.

He turned to face her immediately, as he got the surprised look on his face under control. "No," he muttered in reply. "Slept here. Well, more like jus' wasted the night here. Didn't really sleep none." At least he _thought_ he hadn't slept…

"Oh. Busy contemplating the meaning of life, were you?" she joked lightly as the faintest of smiles passed over her lips. "Have any grand revelations during the night?"

Now it was Mal's turn to smile. "Matter of fact, I did."

Inara's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh?" Again, the smile passed across her face. "Care to enlighten me?"

Mal wasn't sure that his "enlightenment" was something he wanted to share with Inara quite yet… But the Shepherd _had_ said, "Even love can't wait forever." Hadn't they kept it waiting long enough?

"Matter of fact," Mal said after a long moment, "I would _love_ to."

_- _

_If you had but faith in I, and I in you,_

_If we believed in us,_

_If we but trusted all-conquering love…_

_- _

**THE END

* * *

**

**Chinese Translations   
**

_Ben po xiang de goushi – Stupid, detestable elephant crap._

_Ao nao – Annoyed/aggravated/pissed_

_Ou – Annoyed_

_Bai tui – Retreat in defeat_

_Ben – stupid_

_Kui sagwa – deaf idiot_

_Xing-xing – planet_

_Ren he – whatever

* * *

_

The Scripture that Shepherd Book quotes is all from 1 Corinthians 13, known as the love chapter. You can look up the passages on Crosswalk(dot)com if you would like to read it all.


End file.
